Possessive You and Despicable Me
by Deminos
Summary: Based on the concept of Bonnie and Clyde. Two lovers saunter through nameless towns. They embrace each other and bathe in the the sins of their crimes. True love doesn't always come with a happy ending. Character Deaths.
1. PART 1

Possessive You and Despicable Me.

AN: This story is based off of the concept of Bonnie and Clyde. I find the tale of the two rather... romantic, but didn't want to replicate it in case it becomes inaccurate and I ruin it (The die-hard Bonnie and Clyde fans would gut me alive using only their words. Lol.). In this fic there will be character deaths, smut, and the nitty grittier side of the human mind. :D

Arthur and Alfred are twisted sociopaths and psychopaths who are madly in love, so yeah... my darkest and most contrasting fic yet. :3

ALSO! You guys know what happened to Bonnie and Clyde... so please be prepared, there will be character death.

AND! I thank you to all the people that read and reviewed "The Sea Between You And Me," as well as all the people that tumblr'ed it. I'm new to tumblr and yet the fandom there, like all UsUk fandoms, including on FF, are so very nice. So thank you very much! I cannot express how happy and grateful I am. THANK YOU.

**PART ONE: **_ Gluttony and Lust are old time lovers._

Alfred F. Jones fumbled slightly as he tried to light his cigar using only one hand, his left hand at that. He was currently naked with nothing but the bedsheets and blankets to cover him. His right arm was limp as Arthur had used it as a pillow. The smaller blond was still asleep. His bare chest moved gently up and down with his soft breathing. His face was serene, adorable thick brows were no longer set in the constant frown that he always wore during his waking hours.

Alfred watched the sunrise through the window of their expensive hotel suite. They were surrounded in finery, the bed made of the richest cotton, the blankets of silk. Tasteful paintings rested upon the walls, matching well with the burgundy of the plush carpet. It was a normal day. Even in this depression, the two of them lived comfortably. Of course, the money that paid for such luxuries was far from clean, but what the hell, you do what you have to to survive. Although Alfred wanted more than just to survive. He had done the whole 'just survive' thing during the war. He had done that, he was over it. No, Alfred wanted total and utter happiness and contentment. He had found that the moment he had met Arthur Kirkland.

"You have your thinking face on," said a breathy voice, followed closely with a yawn.

Alfred glanced down at his arm and smiled when he met beautiful green eyes. They never ceased to amaze him, how they shone so vividly. 'Do I?' said Alfred, his cerulean eyes sparkled in gentle amusement.

Arthur nuzzled his face deeper into the crook of Alfred's shoulder. He lay there for a moment in silence before getting up, slipping into the larger male's embrace. "Yes. It makes you look sexy."

"Babe, I look sexy all the time," stated Alfred with a crooked grin as he stubbed his cigar on the bedside table. He placed his calloused hands around his lover's bare hips. The silk had slipped down Arthur's smaller frame and pooled at his waist. The hickeys and love bites from last night were already beginning to bruise, peppering his neck, chest and belly. The purple clashed pleasantly against pale skin. Alfred couldn't help the surge of possessive pride that welled up at the sight of those marks.

"Mhn. True." Arthur's words were muffled as he nuzzled Alfred's neck, lapping at the bare skin and nipping harshly at the firm neck tendons before soothing it with an ever so slight suckle. His hands were grasping onto Alfred's shoulder, pushing him down till he was mostly lying on the bed.

Alfred let go of the grip he had on Arthur's hips and was content to allow the smaller male to do as he pleased. His breath hitched when Arthur traveled down lower, nipping at his collar bone and pecs. "Is this pay back from last night?" he asked in a gasping voice. Only Arthur was able do this to him, turn him into a pathetic pile of lust by mere nips and licks. He could feel the smaller male grin against his chest.

"You reap what you sow…" to emphasise this Arthur took a nipple into his mouth and sucked, rolling the pebbled nub with his tongue and grazing it with his teeth. He loved the way Alfred felt, not an ounce of fat, all toned and muscled. His skin was smooth and taut, tinted gold from the sun. He had the body of a god... but Arthur would never tell him that, the Texan's ego was already big enough.

"Fuck..." Alfred gripped the silk sheets. Already his cock was straining, standing erect and proud. He wanted nothing more than to flip the smaller blond over and fuck him raw, but as Arthur had taught him: "good things take time."

"I can't get enough of you." Arthur paid attention to the other nipple, laving it up with saliva before he withdrew and blew on it, the coldness making the nub erect and hard. With a smirk he began to tweak them, fiddling with them till they turned a luscious red. When he was done with that, he began to move lower, leaving a trail of wet love bites as he did so. He paused when he reached Alfred's hip, nuzzling the pronounced bone tenderly. "You saved me from an utterly boring life." His eyes, although filled with a heady lust, were softened with a fond memory of a not so distant past.

Alfred groaned, shifting his legs so that he could spread them wider. He brushed a hand through messy hair the color of wheat and smiled. "You saved me from a life of loneliness," he paused as if to think, and then added with a boyish grin, ".. and abstinence." Arthur nipped at his hip bone sharply in reply. The sensation shot straight down to his shaft and Alfred could feel the pre-cum beading on his tip.

"I love you." Arthur kissed the bullet wound scars that marred Alfred's lower stomach, near his right hipbone. A gift from the war.

"I love you to- Holy Fuck!" Alfred gasped and shuddered when Arthur abruptly took him into his mouth without warning. Immediately he wound his fingers into Arthur's hair, tugging at the messy locks. "Nghn. Y-you l-little _minx._"

Arthur just grinned as best he could with a mouth full of cock, emerald eyes glinting with cheekiness. His lips were stretched thin by the length that filled his mouth. He kept his hands on Alfred's hips, keeping the larger male from bucking wildly. Arthur took his mouth off the length and began to pay attention to the head, lapping at the pre-cum and switching between harsh sucks and soft blowing breaths.

Alfred tried to push Arthur down so that he could get more of that warm wet mouth but Arthur strained against it. He was the type to do things at his own pace, fuck everything else. He was such a tease! "Arthur!" exclaimed Alfred, his words ending in a heady whimper. It seemed as if Arthur had decided to take pity on him, because his length was soon surrounded by a wet heat and god did it feel amazing. He would never tire of Arthur's mouth, his lips, his tight heat, his soft skin. He would never get tired of Arthur. Ever.

Arthur began to bob his head up and down, loving the way the soft velvet of Alfred's prick brushed against his lips and filled his mouth. Arthur could feel his own erection straining, he moaned when it brushed against Alfred's leg, the vibrations of his voice further pleasing the other blond.

"Shit." Alfred tightened his grip on Arthur's hair, knowing that the slight pain of it would turn him on rather than hurt him. Even with Arthur trapping his hips Alfred still manage to thrust up, trying to get more of that slutty mouth. It wasn't enough, he wanted more. Always more, never enough. In a sudden movement that caught Arthur off guard, the taller male wrenched himself free and flipped Arthur till he was on his stomach and Alfred was on top of him. Looming over the smaller form like a predator, Alfred placed both hands on Arthur's plump ass, massaging the firm cheeks and giving them a firm slap. His grin widened at the surprised yelp that escaped Arthur's lips. Then in a single fluid motion, he entered Athur's tight, tight heat.

"Alfred!" Arthur cried out when his entrance was breached. Alfred's hot cock slid in easily, as he was still stretched from the love making the night before. The friction was delicious, filling him to the brim and stretching him till it was almost painful, but that merely turned him on even more. "Al- Al.. So full. Ngh.. S-so full," he groaned, his voice wanton and broken.

Alfred smirked. He loved it when Arthur was like this. Sweat made the paleness of Arthur's skin gleam, his voice was so needy, so slutty. Had they been face to face, then Alfred would be forever staring into those emerald eyes, glistening with lust, moist with unshed tears of pleasure. "You like feeling full, dont'cha Arthur?" He braced his hands on the bed-frame, withdrew at an achingly slow pace, before violently snapping his hips forward. Arthur let out a shrill cry that ending in a grunted groan.

"M-more," begged Arthur, his eyes shut tight at the pleasure. It was almost animalistic, the way Alfred was pounding into him at a harsh, fast pace. Every thrust hit his pleasure spot like a bull's eye and Arthur bit into the pillow to stop himself from screaming like he wanted too. The jingle of Alfred's dog-tags and the creaking of the bed filled the room, accompanied by moans, panting and the occasional cry. Arthur couldn't help the whimper and keening that spilled from his mouth when Alfred bit onto his ear. He could feel the larger man's hot, ragged breath against his ear.

"Who do you belong to?" asked Alfred, his voice rasping, full of restraint, and yet so firm. "Who?" he repeated, never wavering in his thrusts.

Arthur could feel his orgasm coming on but it was too soon. He moaned before whispering a "No one."

Immediately Alfred stopped, his cock half way in that tight hole. Arthur let out a sobbing, shuddering breath, trying to thrust his ass up against Alfred, to have that sweet, sweet cock filling him up again. "A-Alfred!" he pleaded.

"What. Did .You. Just. Say?" Alfred knew that Arthur was toying with him, baiting him and challenging him. But the angry beast of jealously within him clawed viscously at his insides. He wanted to claim Arthur, place so many marks on his body that anyone and everyone _knew_ that he was taken. That he was spoiled for any other, that he was owned by another. Using all the self-control he had (and he had so little of it) Alfred pulled out till only the head of his cock was within Arthur.

"I... belong... to no one!" gasped out Arthur. He was cheeky enough to give a coy, arrogant smirk before reaching down to fondle himself, but Alfred gripped at his hands, trapping them at the sides of his head so that he could find himself no relief. This was the power play between them that would always lead to Alfred being victorious, but that didn't mean Arthur couldn't try. There was a moment's paused where Arthur struggled to free himself. The frustration gathered up inside of him and he let out annoyed grunts and moans. "Alfred!"

"What is it babe?" sweat ran down Alfred's cheek and off his chin, where it dripped onto Arthur's smooth back. God this was hard, but if Arthur wanted to play, then Alfred would play. "Hmn?"

"M-move!" commanded the smaller male. Even trapped the way he was, he expected obedience. How cute.

"Who do you belong to?" asked Alfred again as he bit down on Arthur's neck, drawing blood and a yelp. "Who?"

"Fi-Fine!" gasped Arthur, the flash of pain tilting the scales. In this game, Alfred always won, always. "I-I belong t-to you!" he gasped, almost yelling out. He was rewarded greatly when Alfred resumed his pounding. Saliva ran down his chin, his moans spilling forth like a river and the hands that gripped his own tightened to a bruising pressure.

"Best not to forgot that, Sweetheart." Alfred grunted as he picked up his pace. His thrusts became erratic, showing how close he was to climaxing. He licked the blood off Arthur's neck; it tasted metallic and, somehow, of Arthur as well. "Mine," he whispered possessively, "All mine."

"Hgnh… Hgnh! Yes!" cried out Arthur, "Ahn!" His stomach coiled and white light flashed before his eyes as he came. Letting out a cry that rivaled a banshee, he spilled his seed onto the expensive sheets before slumping down, his limbs feeling boneless. Alfred held onto his hips, pounding into him a couple more times before releasing into him with a feral growl. Arthur whimpered when he felt slick seed filling up his insides, the milky substance leaking out of him when Alfred withdrew.

Alfred pulled the smaller male into his embrace, both of them panting heavily after their love making, trying to catch their breath. It was Arthur that spoke first, hissing slightly as he moved, causing the bite mark on his neck to throb. "You animal," he said as he sat up to inspect the wound, his lower half aching pleasantly.

"Sweetie, if you poke a bear, you gotta expect to lose a limb." There was no regret in Alfred's words, not an ounce of guilt. "Why do you do stuff like that? You know how possessive I am."

Arthur bent down to kiss Alfred's brow. "You're so fun to tease, that's why. I can't help it Dear. It's... Cute."

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Alfred grumbled in a sulking manner. He was a big macho male, far from cute! If anything, it was Arthur that was cute. With his smaller frame, lean body and huge doe eyes. Alfred slipped out of bed and stretched as he yawned. "Ready for another day Babe?"

"Hardly." muttered Arthur as he slipped back under the bed covers, hiding his face with a pillow to escape the morning sun.

"Take a catnap then, I'll shower first." Alfred kissed Arthur's head, ruffling those silky strands, before he walked towards the bathroom that was attached to their suite. "You sure you don't want to join me?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and didn't reply.

"What do you feel like eating?" asked Arthur as he straightened his skinny black tie in front of the full length mirror. Already he was wearing his white, long sleeved shirt and black trousers, the fabric pressed to perfection. His slim hips were accentuated by the black and gray vest that he wore. His black jacket was neatly perched upon a wooden chair.

The two lovers had stayed in their suite till evening, ordering room service and cherishing each other's company. Mostly, Arthur had read one of his books whilst Alfred had read the daily newspaper.

"I could kill for some apple pie right now." Alfred appeared from the bathroom, having used the mirror in there. He tried to straighten his royal blue tie, but his attempt ended in a growl of frustration. Like Arthur, he too was wearing a white shirt and black trousers. Only instead of a vest he was wearing cross suspenders. Gun holsters rested across his shoulders, making them look broader than they already were. Unlike Arthur who had left his hair in the choppy mess that it was, Alfred had slicked back his honeyed locks. It made his face look more mature, emphasizing the shockingly blue hue of his eyes and the sharpness of his masculine jawline.

"Tsk, tsk. Proper food first, then dessert," chided Arthur as he picked up the blue tie and began to properly do it up. Many years of mundane boarding school and a university education ensured that he would never fail when it came to the art of being a gentleman.

"Sweetheart, I still don't know what the fuck you're on about when you say 'proper' food. You eat it and then digest it. End of story. What does it matter if the order's sweet and then salty, or the other way around?" Alfred's Texan drawl, smooth and deep, garnished his words as he spoke.

"Because, that's the way it works!" Arthur's accent was British, refined and tasteful and so much more controlled than the accents spoken in the country of the wild and free, America.

"Foolish Brit," said Alfred under his breath, but it sounded more like an endearment than an insult.

"Crass and stupid American." retorted Arthur with just as much affection. He straightened the tie one more time before putting on his jacket and the fedora that was resting on the nightstand. He picked up his leather suitcase. 'Ready to go?'

"One sec." Alfred slipped on his own jacket and pulled out a cigar from his pockets, lighting it up with a zippo lighter that Arthur had given him. Engraved where the words: 'Together Forever... Unfortunately. Love, A.' The 'unfortunately' part was a joke used to hide the deep love that came with the message, but Alfred knew better.

Arthur took out his own packet of cigarettes, but rather than lighting his own up he walked to Alfred, and with the cigarette stick still in his mouth, he touched his end to Alfred's cigar, using the flame to ignite his own. Not once had Arthur resorted to using a proper flame to light his own smokes. He always had Alfred, so why bother?

"I'm good now," said Alfred through his cigarette and he opened the door, letting Arthur walk out first before he did so himself.

The diner was practically empty at this time. Many people had already returned home to their loving families. The streets were empty and the darkness of the night was beginning to seep in, consuming the evening sun. The only people left in the diner were the workers, the travelers and the lonesome fools who did nothing but sip coffee, kept company by their own loneliness and misery.

Alfred has listened to Arthur and had eaten a pot-roast before moving on to what he actually wanted: The 'all glorious, American apple pie'. The pretty waitress had set the dessert down along with a serve of custard, whipped cream and vanilla ice-cream. Alfred couldn't help but grin. Life was so wonderful.

Arthur allowed himself a small smile when he saw how childish Alfred looked. "Doesn't it feel better when you eat dessert AFTER a proper meal? Feels like a reward." Arthur took a sip of his Earl Grey tea. He had never been one for desserts. Alfred was the only sweet thing for him.

"It's not as if you're suffering by eating desert before a main. Thankfully I'm not eating anything English, you know?' said Alfred snidely and with too much cheek in his voice.

Arthur flushed a hot pink and spluttered. "My dear sir! I'll have you know English cuisine is an acquired taste."

Alfred just grasped onto his stomach, banging on the dinning table as he howled in laughter.

Arthur glared daggers at the Texan before an idea popped into his head. Plucking away Alfred's fork, Arthur took the tip off the slice of pie and popped it in his mouth, chewing triumphantly as he watched Alfred suddenly stop laughing, his expression crestfallen.

"Artie, babe. I love you and all... But that was too far. You crossed a line."

"Oh man up, Alfred. I just took a piece." Arthur handed back the fork and Alfred took it back with a frown.

"Not just a piece, the tip! That's the best part of the pie."

"Oh? I thought the crust was?"

"It is! And so is the filling...You know what? Just stay away from my pie."

"I think I'll stay away from your food all together."

"You know what? That's even better." Alfred began to eat his pie at a shockingly rapid pace, as if he was scared that Arthur would try to steal another bite. Once he was done, he ordered another slice with all the sides. He grinned like a content and happy child, cream stuck to the side of his mouth. "Love youuuu."

Arthur rolled his eyes and threw a napkin at his lover. "I know you do. It's how much you love me that I worry 'bout." He meant it as a joke, but Alfred froze and suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with alarm. "Hmng?!" he tried to voice his words though a mouthful of pie.

"It was a joke, Love. Do you love me or food more?"

"…Can't I just smother you in desserts and eat you up till there's nothing left?" Alfred asked sincerely once he managed to swallow his food.

Arthur just laughed. "You glutton."

Halfway through his third slice of pie, Alfred wasn't looking too good. His gelled back hair had fallen out of place, creating a sexy and rugged effect, but he was slightly off color, looking rather nauseous. "Babe," he groaned, "I don't feel too swell." By now they were the only couple in the diner, as well as one lonesome old fool and a sweet waitress.

Arthur snorted. 'Then stop eating that pie, it's what's making you sick. Really now, your third piece?'

"It's bad to waste food", Alfred groaned again and ate more of the pie. "If I didn't eat that pot-roast then I wouldn't be having this problem."

"No, If you hadn't ordered that third slice then you wouldn't be having this problem." Arthur took the briefcase that was standing by his leg and set it on the dining table. "If you feel that unwell, shall we skip?"

"Nah… Hey, sweetheart?" Alfred pushed what was left of the dessert away and pressed his face onto the table and groaned. "I love you, you can have some of my pie."

Arthur rolled his eyes and opened the briefcase. Within it was what seemed to be a lot of books. "No thank you." He flipped open the covers, and within the books were two revolvers. "Lesson learnt this time, okay? No more thirds." Arthur smiled, a cruel glint entering his eyes before he took a gun in each hand, stood up, and fired two rounds into the air.

It happened in just a split second: the one loner heard the gunshots, saw the gun, saw Arthur, and ran for the door, only he didn't make it. 3 rounds entered his back, hitting his shoulder blade, his lower back and his legs. He let out a pig-like squeal and was dead before he hit the floor. A fountain of blood poured from his wounds and splattered upon the mundane cream walls of the diner.

Alfred smiled proudly and propped himself on his elbows. Arthur used to be such a lousy shot, but after a couple of lessons, the Brit was now shooting like a natural. The Texan couldn't help but admire his lover in the midst of his blood-lust. Arthur's green eyes, although vibrant on a normal basis, shone with a sickening pleasure that just lit up those amazing orbs like the fourth of July. That smile, so sinister, so sweet. He was happiest when he was killing, happiest when feeding off the fear of others, having them at his total mercy. Alfred loved Arthur, so as long as Arthur was happy, he didn't really care about what happened. Heck, if Arthur wanted to kill then Alfred would just say "who."

In a fluid movement, Arthur sat on the dinning counter near the cash register. His posture was perfect, one leg crossed over the other with his back straight and shoulders up, looking confident and at ease. With one hand, he held the gun to the waitress' head, the other to the kitchen door. A split second later, the chef slammed open the door to see the commotion, only to have a bullet enter his head. The look of shock and horror on his face was quite... _Amusing_. Blood bled from his head wound and soaked the pristine white of his shirt; the chef now looked like a butcher.

"Oh sweet Jesus, please to God…" whimpered the waitress, the fear evident in her eyes. She was shaking violently, her legs barely able to keep her up. "Please…"

"Be a good dear and fill the sack with cash.' asked Arthur pleasantly, as if inquiring about the weather, gun still pointed to the waitress' face.

"Y-yes O-of c-c-course", she stuttered with a whimper as shaky hands opened the cash register, pulling out wads of money. "Please," she uttered, "Please don't kill me", she begged. By now, tears ran down her face in a horrible, unrefined mess. "I have children, please. Oh god, please don't." the begging became more incoherent as the money in the cash register became empty.

"Come now poppet, stop your weeping. It's unbecoming of you," said Arthur with those gentle eyes, in that gentle smile, speaking in that gentle voice.

The flare of jealousy that ripped at Alfred's heart made him clench his fists. He hid his jealousy behind a veil of indifference. Taking out a cigar from his pocket, he lit it up using the zippo. "Babe, remember the golden rule." He called out absentmindedly, looking out the window.

Arthur glanced back at Alfred and noticed that the Texan was sulking. The Brit couldn't help the tender smile that crept onto his lips. Really now, Alfred could be such a child sometimes. "I know, _Darling_," Arthur drawled, catching Alfred's attention. When Alfred turned back around and blue eyes met green, Arthur pulled the trigger. He didn't even look back to watch as the waitress fell to the floor. Instead, he picked up the bag of cash and walked over to Alfred, kissing the larger male on the side of his lips. "No survivors, yes?"

Alfred's azure eyes sparkled, "Yup! That's my sweetheart!" he said proudly before standing up and taking Arthur's hands in his. "Come on now babe, time to skedaddle."

Holding hands, the two males stepped over the corpse of the cook and entered the kitchen, flicking on the gas and lighting the stove a few meters away. With that, they ran off at a break neck speed, outside the dinner and into the sleek black car that was parked nearby. They drove off, leaving the town behind and-

BOOM!

Perched on the edge of his seat, Arthur watched with amazement in his eyes as a loud explosion rang throughout the area, shattering the night sky and making the shine of the stars pale in comparison. He settled back into his seat and laughed, wild and carefree. "That was bloody brilliant!"

"Won't be the last," said Alfred with an indulgent smile.

"Yes. Indeed." Arthur smiled back. Even though Alfred was a morning person, he looked dashing under the night sky. His azure eyes shone like the many stars overhead. The moon made the honey of his hair shine a cool, deep hue. The wind had whipped against his face, ruining his hair, but the messiness only enhanced his charm. A stubborn flick of hair stood up against his head, and as always, Arthur wanted to tug at it.

His heart swelled at the perfection before him and love flowed through his veins, replacing the adrenalin of his blood-lust from before. Arthur sighed happily and looked up at the stars. "I love the night sky, reminds me of another world."

"I prefer the morning, when everything seems as if it's gonna be fuckin' perfect. All that sunny glow, best time ever for ice cream." Alfred kept his eyes on the road, but his free hand searched for Arthur's, and once again their fingers entwined within each other.

Arthur couldn't help but notice the contrast. His hands were slimmer and more pale. Alfred's hands, however, were tanned, roughened with calluses earned from hard labor. And yet, they fit together so perfectly. "Morning is terrible, how bothersome to wake up to such brutal light. Also, is there ever not a good time for ice cream when it comes to you?"

"That's true." Alfred chuckled and squeezed Arthur's hand. "As if the night's any better. I can't see jack, even with all the twinkly stars. The more light, the better. You can see more."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You have an obsession with sight."

Alfred shrugged the comment off, but Arthur noticed that his posture had stiffened ever so slightly, his words strained and thick with hidden emotion.

"Let's do it this way then, shall we? You're a morning person, an early bird. I'm a night person, a night owl. Shall we meet in the middle?"

Alfred laughed, the tension gone from his frame. "Morning or Evening?"

"Evening of course."

"Evening it is then!" exclaimed Alfred, and the two lovers laughed joyously. "Artie Babe." The Texan's tone turned soft, his drawl barely evident but still there. It made his words smooth, like a sweet whiskey. "It doesn't matter if there is no beginning, it doesn't mean jack to me if the ending is unclear. As long as you're in the middle, in the present, with me, then nothing else matters."


	2. PART 2

**PART TWO: **_Pride and Sloth are drinking buddies._

It was morning. Alfred had driven for hours straight, allowing Arthur to nap in the backseat. The Texan didn't mind at all really, it was comforting watching the sunrise as well as Arthur's sleeping face. Warm oranges and golds danced across Arthur's slumbering face, the light creating a halo and an ethereal scene. It was breathtaking and Alfred could feel his love swelling to an almost unbearable level. God... life was amazing.

An hour in, Alfred heard a rustling, followed by hot lips kissing his cheek.

"Morning Love," mumbled Arthur as he climbed back into the front seat, yawning loudly and stretching his arms. His messy hair was even more wild than before, sticking out at odd angles, matching the creases of his suit. "Do you want me to drive? You must be absolutely knackered."

"I'm good babe, we'll be in town in another hour or so. I'll sleep then." Alfred accepted the lit cigar that Arthur poked at his mouth. The Texan's lips quirked up in a smile when Arthur leaned closer and lit his own smoke.

A soft hand kneaded Alfred's thigh teasingly, slowly moving higher up. "Shall I keep you company?"

"Artie Darling, When have I ever said no to your company?" Alfred blew some cigar smoke out of the corner of his mouth and smirked in a cheeky manner. "But I gotta hit the hay for a bit before we fuck like bunnies." The hand that had been caressing him turned into a painful and sudden pinch. Alfred let out a painful yowl, "Babe!" he growled.

"How crass!" scolded Arthur as he returned to his seat and crossed his arms with a 'Hmph'. "Next time you utter something rude, I'll wash your mouth out with soap."

"Aw shucks, sounds like school all over again," Alfred took his eyes off the road, waggling his fine eyebrows at Arthur. "Gotta admit though, Love, you're a lot sexier than my grade school teacher."

"Vulgar twat!" exclaimed Arthur as he blushed and looked away, his reaction so innocent it clashed with the reality of their lifestyle.

Alfred just continued laughing; it wasn't till they drove for a bit more that he saw something beyond the horizon. As they drew closer, the Texan noticed it was a car that was currently immobile. The hood was up, but it was the person bending over the vehicle that caught his eye. Long feminine legs were bare and a shapely peach ass was covered in coarse blue denim. Even from this distance, Alfred recognized who it was.

"Isn't that…?" Arthur's thick eyebrows furrowed. He'd recognize those shapely legs anywhere.

Alfred drove closer, till their cars were neck and neck. "Howdie-"

Instantly the woman spun around, her cow boots kicking up dust in the process. A revolver was clasped tightly in her hand. She pointed it straight at Alfred's heart. Of course, Alfred had his own weapon out and in the direction of the woman's head. He smiled as recognition flashed through the woman's eyes. Her short, sun kissed hair bouncing as she leapt up. "Al!" she exclaimed. Her bountiful chest, squeezed in a tight white shirt that was knotted under her cleavage, bounced at her every movement. "How've ya been?"

Alfred tucked his gun away. "Good, lil' Missy, 'n you? I see you're in a bit of a tight spot. Need some help?"

Amelia F. Jackson grinned, "That'd be mighty helpful of you." she drawled, her Texan accent much deeper than Alfred's.

If Arthur didn't know better, then he would've thought they were twins. He had met Amelia and her lover years back, and although the two couples got along well, their way of conducting... business… was too different, so they had parted ways. Amelia and Anna preferred seducing wealthy men, killing them in their own homes, and then stealing and pawning off anything of value. It was more... _discreet_. But it was nice to catch up every now and then. "Where's Anna?" asked Arthur, slightly curious. He'd never seen the two females apart before.

Amelia rolled her eyes and knocked on the roof of the car. "My Princess, our knights in shinin' armor are here."

There was a shuffling noise and the door opened as Anna Kingsley stepped out in a dainty manner. Her frilly blue skirts flowed around her ankles. She looked rather miffed, her long golden locks, tied in pigtails, looked damp from the heat. She snapped the book that she was holding shut, and her forest green eyes, at first filled with disdain, softened when she saw the two males. "Alfred, Arthur! It's wonderful to see you again."

Arthur, being the gentleman that he was, got out of the chair and bowed as he took Anna's small hand in his and kissed it as a knight would. His smile was teasing, "We've come to rescue the fair maidens from the horrid beast that is this heat."

Anna laughed and curtsied in an exaggerated way. Alfred and Amelia just looked at each other before rolling their eyes. The English...

"Hop in" Alfred gestured to the car. "We'll take you back into town."

"That's mighty swell and all but we have a bit of a problem..." Amelia gestured to their own car, specifically the back seat. Sure enough, there was another man, totally bound and gagged. He was awake, eyes brimming with fear. His screams and pleas were muffled. "Whadda we do with him?"

Arthur peered in the back seat, his green eyes turning into that sickening shade again. "We could kill him?" he offered.

"Nah. If it was killing him, then that'd be easy."

"Blow up the car!" recommended Alfred.

"Yeah!" exclaimed Amelia and the two Americans looked very happy at the prospect of a big boom.

"Americans and their unhealthy obsession with explosives. Tsk tsk. Why don't we just let him stew in his own fat?" Anna brushed a lock of hair away. American summers were so cruel. Sometimes she missed England's pleasantly dreary weather. "It's too hot to put any effort into this matter."

Anna looked at the glaring sun and covered her eyes. "You're right Ann. We should hurry along before it gets hotter. Poor thing, you must be dying in those clothes." she reached inside and pulled out a suitcase that no doubt contained a ridiculous amount of money. Amelia jumped into the front seat of the car and left her legs hanging out the side near the rear-view mirrors. "Yeehaw! This is going to be one glamorous trip, ain't it?"

Anna on the other hand waited as Arthur opened the door for her. Only when she was properly seated did Arthur close the door and enter the car himself.

The ride was peaceful with the wind blowing. The two Americans in the front seat began bickering on what was better, hamburgers or hot apple pie and donuts while the two Britons sat in a comfortable silence.

It was Arthur that spoke first. "Anna?"

"Yes?" came the refined answer. She was softly spoken, as if it were unrefined for a lady of her stature to raise her voice.

"Do you believe in soul mates?"

"Yes." said Anna without any hesitation; she caressed the spine of the book she was holding. "Because I found Amelia." She turned to face Arthur, "Do you? You have Alfred after all."

"I do." Arthur smiled and watched with content as Alfred lightly shoved at Amelia in a very sibling manner. "My friend from Japan, whilst I was in boarding school, once told me that your soul mate was decided before you were born, and that you were tied together by a red string of fate." The Briton held up his pinky finger and grinned at Anna. "Tied to this finger, destined to find the person connected to the other end of the string."

"I see... personally, I prefer Plato's theory of soul-mates… He proposed that humans originally had four arms, four legs, and a single head made of two faces… but you see, Zeus feared their power and split them all in half, condemning them to spend their lives searching for the other half."

Arthur chuckled, "You're lucky, you've had years with your other half. You met her when you were 15?"

"In an all girl's school. Even after all these years, she still hasn't learned proper manners, nor etiquette. But... she's utterly twisted… just like me." A darkness, sick and vile leaked into Anna's emerald eyes before dying down again.

Arthur patted Anna on the shoulder. "They're American, It's a lost cause my dear. Alfred still won't say "May I" or drink tea."

"Shame."

"Indeed, tea is a wonderful thing."

Anna rested her head on Arthur's shoulders and sighed happily. Arthur was like an older brother to her. Surprisingly, he was the only one that was able to touch her and not face the wrath of Amelia F. Jackson. "Do not worry Arthur. You have many years to come with Alfred."

The British male laughed. "That's the dream. Grow old together, Alfred sitting on the porch with a shotgun, screaming about aliens. I'll be cooking in the back and you'll occasionally drop by with Amelia."

"Whatever do you mean 'occasionally'? We shall be neighbors."

In the middle of their talking, the two Americans in the front seat took a truce in their bickering and turned to face the Britons.

Alfred scowled and rolled his eyes. "Damnit Artie are you two talking 'bout Shakespeare again? You know that old bastard's dead right?"

"Yeah!" chimed in Amelia, "It's so boring! Revenge this, love that, a bit of irony here and there... and all that ye old English rubbish as well!"

"Oh man." Drawled Alfred," Hamlet was such a mopey sop, MacBeth was a kept man and Romeo just needed a good fuck."

There was a pause, the tension rose between Anna and Arthur and Alfred and Amelia. Lips thinned and eyes closed, both their brows twitched in annoyance. Almost at once, their eyes snapped opened. Both Brits violently kicked the front seat in unison, refinement and upper-class upbringing thrust out the window as they screamed in perfect unison. "KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE BLEEDING ROAD AND MIND OUR OWN RUDDY BEESWAX!"

It was three hours of driving and pleasant bickering before they returned to town. Their car came to a puckering stop in the middle of the city and they were met with gawks from men as Amelia hopped out of the car. Anna departed the car in a more refined manner, waiting for Arthur to open the door for her like the gentleman that he was.

"So what are you gals gonna' do now?" asked Alfred as he took out Anna's suitcase and passed it to Amelia.

Amelia glanced around, noticing the looks that the men were giving her. She rolled her eyes, "Don't worry Al, we'll do fine. Lots of opportunities in a town like this."

Anna fixed her glasses, her eyes glinting in this… desire that was inhuman and daunting. "Indeed, lots of... pickings in a town like this." Her voice was gentle and refined.

Alfred scoffed before shaking his head, "Women are fucking scary!" he muttered before placing his hands around Arthur's waist. He absentmindedly placed a small kiss on the smaller male's crown.

"That's because you like dick Al~" Amelia laughed. The sound was loud and shrill, drawing more attention. Anna gasped at the crude word before pinching Amelia in rebuke.

"Yeah, and you hate dick." Alfred stuck out his tongue, but inhaled sharply when Arthur jabbed him in the ribs using his elbow.

"Are you sure you'll both be fine?" Arthur pulled away from the Texan and then petted Anna's head affectionately. "It'll be no trouble escorting you to the nearest hotel."

"Nah, S'all good Artie, you'd be cramping our style if you came with us." Amelia ran up to Arthur and Alfred, pecking them on the cheek before running back to Anna and grasping her hands. "And, well, best be off now or we'll never find a place for the night!" and then before the males could say good bye, the two women sprinted off into the distance in a flurry or swishing skirts and long legs.

"I worry about those two sometimes," Arthur shook his head gently in exasperation, his tone full of affection.

"They're big girls, they can take care of themselves." Alfred smiled and wrapped his arms around Arthur's shoulders. "Now quit thinking 'bout people who aren't me and let's go find something to eat!"

Arthur scowled, but the expression then morphed into a look of concern. "I thought you wanted to sleep?"

Alfred shook his head and then grinned boyishly. It was the smile that made everything in the world perfect. "Food, sex then sleep."

"Are you sure you want it to be in that order?" Arthur grinned, "I don't want you falling off to sleep in the middle of our love making Darling."

The Texan's mouth gaped open before he spluttered, "Babe!" he exclaimed, looking aghast. "When have I ever done that?!"

"Never, but there's a first for everything."

Alfred seemed speechless at the mere prospect of him being anything less than the sex god he thought he was. In retaliation to Arthur's words, the larger male bent down and sharply nipped the Briton on the ear.

"Ouch!" gasped Arthur as he tore away and gingerly touched his ear, "Alfred!"

Alfred gripped Arthur's arm and pulled him closer. "Babe, sweetheart," he cooed, "I'm going to make you regret those words."

Arthur took in those words, shivering in delight as the images of rough sex ran through his mind. He grinned, his emerald eyes gleaming and shimmering. "I'll hold you to it Love."

Arthur watched in horror as Alfred consumed another burger at a worrying rate. There were two piles in front of the Texan, a pile of rumpled up wax paper and a pile of burgers which Arthur had turned into a pyramid in his boredom. "You're going to get sick again."

"Nof I'mf notf!" said Alfred through a mouth full of burger. He swallowed. The huge lump of food could be vividly seen traveling down his throat. Then he grinned, looking utterly happy and content, before shoveling more burgers into his mouth.

Arthur smiled fondly before he looked down at the table, fiddling with the rim of his empty beer glass. He looked around the bar they were at. The dim lights and cheery music created a pleasant atmosphere. In the center of the bar was a dance floor where couples were moving together rapidly in joyous occasion.

"Wanna dance?" asked Alfred when he noticed Arthur's gaze.

Arthur looked back at Alfred, his smile teasing, and yet there was a hint of hope in his eyes. "Are you going to throw everything up if we do?"

The Texan grinned, leaving his chair he held out his hand towards Arthur in a very gentlemanly manner. "Sweetheart, I'm made of tougher stuff."

Arthur took the hand, "I'll hold you to that."

Alfred just dragged the Briton onto the dance floor, and they were consumed in a sea of dancing couples. The sound of violins and fiddles made a fast paced tune as Arthur was spun around 'til he was dizzy. He let out laughter and returned to Alfred's embrace. They were deliriously happy in the warmth of each other. There was a feeling of fulfillment, of absolute content welling up as they moved in harmony with one another, as if they had never spent a day apart, as if they were born for one another, as if in this world there was only them and nothing- _no one-_ else. No one at all. Alfred's smile was so bright, matching the dazzle in his eyes, as he looked down at Arthur adoringly. The Briton's own smile was wide, his eyes holding a trust that was given only to Alfred.

Although people would usually stare and gawk at the two men dancing together, it seemed that most, if not all of the current customers were so drunk that they neither noticed nor cared.

Arthur craned his neck, his voice filled with breathless panting as he spoke into Alfred's ears. "What's after this, My love?"

"Sex. Sleep." Alfred growled sexily, the noise full of primal want and need. He leaned down so that Arthur could wrap his arms around his neck. Then, in a sudden movement Arthur was lifted up, Alfred's strong hands gripping his waist tightly as the Briton was twirled around in circles till he could barely stand on his own feet.

"Al! Al!" yelled Arthur, bellowing with laughter, "Stop! Stop!" he begged.

Alfred continued his onslaught, picking up the speed of his twirls even as he laughed merrily. He was becoming dizzy himself, but it was just so fun. The world around them was spinning.

"Alfred!" yelled Arthur as he clutched onto the Texan even harder, "I'll throw up on you!" he threatened. Those seemed to be the magic words as immediately Alfred ceased his spinning.

The taller male stuck out his tongue in a childish manner. "Spoil sport!" he accused, but his words were empty, rendered useless by the loving smile on his face.

Arthur was grinning, panting like mad. He cupped Alfred's face with his hands and brought their faces closer. "Shall we do the next thing now?" The Briton leaned even closer and licked at Alfred's bottom lip.

"Ab-so-fucking-lutely" growled the Texan, a different hunger gleaming in his eyes.

Arthur leaned down till his face was in the crook of the taller male's neck. He bit onto the nape before letting go. "Language." he chided with a knowing smirk.

Alfred hissed at the slight pain. He pulled Arthur closer and whispered into his ear dangerously. "Babe... You're so going to regret doing that."

In a matter of 20 minutes the two lovers found themselves at the nearest hotel. They booked a room, not once letting go of one another as they headed to the bedroom.

Arthur tore off his own clothes at a rapid pace, before tearing away at Alfred's clothing. He tore at the shirt, not caring about the ripped buttons and ruined material. All he wanted was Alfred's bare skin against his.

They kissed. Hungry and wanting, full of desperate need as their desires became uncontrollable. Alfred bit onto Arthur's lower lip, nibbling and chewing softly till those lips looked raw and wet. The Briton moaned into the harsh kiss, plunging his tongue into the Texan's mouth, attempting to taste every nook and cranny. Alfred kicked their hotel door closed and somehow the two males fell upon the king sized bed.

Alfred pulled off Arthur's trousers, cursing softly when the belt became something of a hindrance. It was easily dealt with, but still, it was a hassle that had clearly been unwanted. He took off his own pants, throwing them away somewhere beyond the confines of the bed. Then he finished taking off his shirt and finally, finally, they were both naked, gloriously bare and _aching_ with need.

"I love you," muttered Alfred as he covered Arthur's smaller frame with his own. The Briton wrapped his legs around Alfred's tapered waist.

"I love you," he muttered again, he kissed Arthur's lips. Those soft, delectable lips.

"I love you," a kiss to that long sexy neck that more often than not was marred with love bites.

A kiss to those toned shoulders, so strong and yet so slender. "I love you."

Alfred nibbled at the jutting collarbone, before placing a heated kiss on it, like a brand, a permanent seal. "I love you." he muttered those words over and over again, like a mantra from a crazy man. But he was crazy. Twisted and bound by the love he had for the English man that was currently writhing underneath him. The Texan was too far gone to save himself, but he didn't want to be saved. He didn't need redemption or forgiveness. Only Arthur mattered in this world. Only him.

Arthur let out a desperate sob before wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck, bringing the two of them closer. But he wanted more. He didn't want to be close. He wanted, no, _needed_ to be together, joined in body, mind and soul. "Alfred," he whimpered and keened, almost crying as the emotion of love overwhelmed him, almost suffocating him. "Alfred, I love you."

And they made love, in every sense of the word, over and over again. The whole night spent in each other's sweet embrace, welcoming the rapture that consumed them. Trying to quell the addiction that they had for one another. Whispering and crying out words of love again and again till the sweet darkness of sleep embraced them.


	3. PART 3

**PART THREE: **_Wrath and Envy are sparring partners._

"Where shall we head off to next, babe?" asked Alfred as he cut up his thick pancakes, drowned in blueberry sauce, butter, and topped with a rather revolting amount of bacon.

Arthur took a sip of his tea and returned to the newspaper he was currently reading. The paper crinkled as he moved. "We're a tad strapped for cash at the moment, Dear."

The Texan shrugged, "Should we stop by the bank then? Or the post office?" he cut up and ate some more bacon.

"It's a weekend, yes? The bank won't be too busy. A stop there would be nice." Arthur's thick brows rose when he read the next article. "Alfred?"

The said man was now drizzling more blueberry sauce onto his pancakes and bacon. By now it was starting to look like soup. "What?"

"Look at this," said the Briton as he moved closer to show Alfred the new article. It was about a man that had been found dead, half dressed, with a single bullet to his head. All the valuables of the house were gone. The table had been made, as if someone had decided to have a spot of tea and some biscuits, but the body of the victim was found in the bedroom. It was strange and very morbid.

"Those cheeky little gals, asking for trouble doing things like that," chuckled Alfred as he returned to his food, looking like a proud older brother.

"We eat before and they eat after. Besides, they aren't as reckless as we are when it comes to our profession."

"We leave no trace Darl, they literally leave breadcrumbs... or, you know, donut crumbs and tea leaves."

"Mhn..." Arthur returned to reading his newspaper and glanced at his watch. "Alfred, there's a couple more hours till the bank closes. We have quite some time to kill."

Alfred finally finished his food and grinned, "Well then, what would you like to do Artie, babe?"

"What is there to do?"

The Texan shot Arthur a knowing look and the Briton rolled his eyes, "No Alfred, no sex."

Alfred let out a puppyish whimper and keened, "Spoil sport," he muttered darkly, but his mood lifted, "Shall we go on a date then?"

That caused the Briton to blush like a poppy flower. "W-what?" it was adorable, that he could stutter and look so scandalous at the mere mention of a date, despite all the sex that they had, the people they'd killed.

"Sure, why not? Go to a nice place, some sightseeing, fine food," Alfred lit his cigar, "And you know? End the night with a big 'kaboom'."

"Er... sure," said Arthur, trying to look nonchalant, but the blush was still on his face. There was happiness in his eyes that had nothing to do with the bank they were about to rob later in the day.

The Texan threw some bills onto the table and crooked his arm for Arthur to take. "Let's start. Where are we off to then?"

"May we go to a library? A cafe? The park even?" said Arthur, his blush getting darker the more things he suggested.

"Sure babe, we can do all those things... unless you go all intellectual on me and refuse to leave the library? Cause last time we went to the library, you tried to read all the literature there within a day."

"It's nice to have a quiet day from time to time… and I don't whine when we spend all day at the circus!"

"There's a difference, the circus is _fun."_

The Briton rolled his eyes, "Abused animals and fumbling idiots."

"Talented fumbling idiots" corrected Alfred with a tender smile.

And so they did just that. They headed towards the nearest antique bookstore, where Arthur salivated over aged books that were so worn and old they seemed to be one page flick away from turning into dust. They stayed there for hours, Alfred quietly smoking, leaning against one of the doorframes as he watched Arthur prance around in a happy ecstasy, as he watched with a soft expression. They left the store after buying a small paperback book that had cost a ridiculous amount of money. But Arthur had wanted it, so that was that.

Then they headed to the park, feasting on hot dogs and burgers before settling upon the grass. It was a lazy day. The grass was green and soft, thriving and full of life. Alfred was snoozing lightly as he lay upon the grass in a secluded area of the park, veiled by trees. Arthur was reading his paperback novel, using the Texan's tummy as a pillow.

"Wouldn't it be grand? If we could go to the moon? To watch the earth and touch the stars?" said Alfred absentmindedly as he ran a calloused hand through Arthur's straw colored hair, caressing the soft tresses.

"It would be even more grand, I think, if we were to see more than just this boring world. To see beyond the moon, the sun and the stars."

Alfred snorted, "Only to see what? Darkness and nothing more?"

"No, you stupid git!" Arthur changed his position and lay on his side rather than his back. "To see unicorns and faeries..." the Briton trailed off, "pixies and mermaids..."

Alfred yawned, his jaws opening wide as he mumbled, "Your head is so far into the clouds. I think the 'now' is fine as it is. I have you, I have money, burgers have never tasted any better, what more could I ever want?"

"Simpleton," chided Arthur, but there was a fondness in his words. A smile graced his lips, "And it's the 'present' by the way, not the 'now' …your English is shocking."

"It's American, Sweetcheeks. Deal with it."

Arthur snorted. He changed his position so that he was lying on top of Alfred. He nuzzled the Texan's neck. "You know I only deal with it because I love you, right?"

Alfred grinned and wrapped his arms around his lover, the embrace firm but not tight. "Thank god for small mercies then." The smile vanished to leave a more serene expression. He lowered his head, breathing in Arthur's scent, allowing it to warm his soul, his very being.

They remained like that for a while, savoring each other. In the end, it was the little things like this, the silence that was so warm and natural. It made life wonderful. The softness of the grass, the warmth and light created by the waning sun, the breeze that was such a soft caress that it almost wasn't there. How great was life, how much brighter it was to be alive, just because of a single person that made you complete. To have found love, true love... it was such a gift that it was almost painful to bear and acknowledge.

"Arthur, I love you," whispered Alfred, his voice raw.

"I know," replied Arthur. He stood up, straightened his clothes and gave Alfred his hand. "Shall we be off now, Love? The bank will be closing soon."

Alfred accepted the hand and was pulled up by his own feet rather than Arthur's own strength. "Yeah, kay."

The bank was nearly empty. There were very few customers and bank employees. It was a rather small bank to begin with, so the emptiness was predictable. It was just like any other bank… absolutely _boring_, a place where no one enjoyed being. It was as if time stood still in this tiny building of stark grey, with only a single potted plant in a corner to rub in the fact that there was life outside, while the workers were stuck in here. Everyone just wanted to go home, to continue their mundane but comfortable life.

Arthur and Alfred entered, holding onto suitcases. One was empty, ready to be filled with money, whilst the other was filled with guns.

Their next move was to be very calculated. Alfred locked the door of the bank as they entered, swiftly and quietly, so that the civilians would not notice.

And then it happened in a split second.

Alfred pulled out his guns from the holsters on his back, fired shots into the air and hollowed for order amongst the starting chaos.

The very few people in the bank froze, looking like deer caught in headlights, before trying their best to flee, somehow, somewhere. Anywhere.

The first person that tried to get past Alfred was effectively shot between the eyes. They fell down onto the floor, listless and unmoving.

"Stay down and shut the fuck up!" bellowed Alfred. Disorder and chaos, he hated it. Another quirk from his time spent in the army, he reasoned.

Everyone did as they were told, rushing to the floor and lying down as they muttered words of prayer under their breath.

"Language love," chided Arthur, already at the front desk of the tiny bank, a pleasant smile on his face. He looked like any other customer, minus his green eyes glinting darkly as he looked at the banker, handing him the empty suitcase. "You know what to do I presume?" to further emphasize his point, the Briton held a small pistol to the bankers' head.

The banker whimpered and did as he was told. It was all so very easy.

In a matter of moments, their suitcase was brimming with cash. Arthur shot Alfred a knowing look, and without a shrug or a change of expression Alfred began to shoot all that were still alive.

Knowing that there was no way in hell of surviving this, the hostages made a run for it, scrambling for any nook and cranny, like mice running away from a cat, sheep trying to escape from a hungry wolf.

Alfred and Arthur shot them all. The banker now lay on the floor, a look of absolute terror permanently sprawled across his face.

How hauntingly memorable.

The dead people were quickly beginning to outnumber the people left alive.

There was a breach in this normality, however, when someone actually tried to fight back. Arthur dodged a chair that had been aimed at his back. Spinning around, he drew up his gun, about to shoot the fool that thought a chair had a standing chance against a gun, only to freeze dead in his tracks.

The world ceased to move.

Arthur stared in blank shock at the Frenchman that he had not seen since he left their quaint little town."... Francis...?"

Blue eyes were wide, covered by long locks of honeyed blond hair. A dusting of facial hair surrounded a mouth that was gaping open in shock. "...A..Arthur? Mon Dieu..." whispered Francis, his eyes changing from fear into something more... sad. "What has happened to you, old friend?"

Arthur didn't seem to pick up on the somber tone. Instead, he grinned like a fool, pulling his gun down and standing close to Francis. "I've been here and about. Blimey, it's been ages! How have you been, Frog?"

Francis verbally flinched at the old nick-name that Arthur used to call him. The Frenchman coughed awkwardly, not knowing what to do. And really, who could blame him? To find out that your childhood friend was a now a heartless psychopath. A person who had once been so normal was now empty of morals and empathy. "I...I've been good."

Arthur smiled. It was the same dazzling smile that Francis had seen on him time and time again, only this time it was so wrong. "Ah, that's fantastic then! Fancy seeing you here of all places."

"Artie dear, who's this?" Alfred had finished killing everybody in sight. He perched his chin on Arthur's shoulder. His voice was light and casual, but his eyes glinted as cold as ice, with the very obvious message:_ He's __**mine! **_As if to prove this, the Texan wrapped his arms around the Briton's waist.

Arthur leaned into the touch, allowing Alfred to nuzzle his neck. "Alfred, this is my childhood friend, Francis. Francis, this is Alfred."

Francis was very obviously uncomfortable and at loss at what to do next. He couldn't really run, but he couldn't act as if what they were doing was okay. He couldn't even reach out his hands for a handshake, lest he be tainted with the darkness that had so obviously ensnared Arthur.__

Alfred seemed to be judging him, looking through his very soul with those piercing azure eyes, and Francis sincerely feared for his life, trying his very best to ignore the instincts that screamed _run, run, RUN!_

"Pleased... to meet you," drawled out Alfred. The greeting seemed simple, but every word was carefully constructed. He was still holding a gun. If he wanted to, he could get rid of this French filth.

Arthur seemed to notice how tense Alfred was. He patted the Texan comfortingly on the arm. "Come now Alfred, Francis is harmless, truly. A stupid git who did nothing but chase after anything with legs."

Those were not the words to say. Instead of calming down, Alfred's hackles rose and his next words were barely audible, coming out as a feral snarl. _"Did he chase after you?"_

Arthur's own inner monstrosity seemed to rear its ugly head at Alfred's tone. Arthur's personality changed into something more stern. "No, he did not Alfred. Really now, even if he did, does it matter? Now would you please behave? I'm trying to catch up with an old friend."

Alfred made a sulky expression, "Fine. Catch up all you want, but you know the golden rule."

Arthur made a face, his eyebrows furrowed together. "There are always exceptions, Love."

Something dark sparked within those azure eyes, and the Texan shot the Frenchman a hideous look. "_Babe_..." spoke Alfred, his voice soft and dark, like liquorice, "I don't think it's in our best interest to leave any survivors, even if it is a friend."

"You wouldn't be saying that if it were Matthew."

"Mattie's different, that's blood."

"Francis is practically my elder brother... even if he is a total cad."

"No!" the word was yelled out, sharp as it penetrated the silence of the bank. Alfred gripped tightly onto Arthur's wrist. "Arthur, I love you. Trust me on this. Kill him."

Francis' breath hitched. He inched away, but froze in his steps and felt fear grip the very pit of his soul as sinister blue eyes stared at him. He didn't know what to say, but in the end what could he have possibly said? The two lovers argued with each other in their own little world, as if they weren't surrounded by corpses.

"No, Alfred!" The Briton's eyes were vivid and stubborn. He didn't care that Alfred's grip was practically bruising him.

Those words seemed to anger the Texan even more, but instead of throwing a tantrum or doing something violent as expected, he was instead... eerily quiet. It was more terrifying than any fit of anger. "Arthur. Him or me."

Arthur's eyes went wide with shock. His lips quivered, but he remained firm. They were equal in their relationship, more often than not they were on the same level. It was when they weren't that many tears were shed. Now was one of those times. Arthur bit onto his lip, "Al, don't make me choose. You know in the end it would always be you. I love you, you silly arse."

There was silence. It drew on, thick and dense, as it filled the dead air of the bank.

It was Alfred that caved in, his love for Arthur overriding his sense of self-preservation. "Fine," he grumbled in a childish whine. He made a keening noise and buried his face in Arthur's neck. "But it's only because I love you."

"Thank you Alfred." Arthur smiled, petting the larger male's head affectionately.

"We should go now then, if we want to make it to the next town before the pigs come." Arthur picked up the suitcases filled with weapons and cash.

A loud bang of a gunshot rang throughout the room, followed by an anguished cry.

Arthur spun around and saw that Alfred was holding a pistol, smoke billowing out at the end. "ALFRED!" he yelled. Thankfully, Francis was not dead, but he was clutching at this leg where a large spot of red was blossoming rapidly. His face was contorted in pain, his breathing heavy.

Alfred spun around to face the Briton, looking as if were a child that had been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. "What?"

"What on earth?! What did I_ just_ say?!"

The Texan rolled his eyes. "He's still alive... just a bit broken that's all."

"Really? _Really_?" Arthur rolled his eyes. "That's the excuse you're going to go with?"

Alfred smiled cheekily. "My finger slipped?"

"Bloody Hell, _Alfred!_" growled Arthur. He gave one suitcase to Alfred anyway and held onto the Texan's free hand. The Briton shot a sad look at Francis, "It was nice seeing you again Francis."

And with that, the two lovers left, leaving a trail of death and pain in their wake.

It was still dark by the time they reached the next town. Normally they would look for a parking space and head to the nearest hotel, but after what happened before, Alfred instead parked their car near an alley.

"Where are we going?" asked Arthur with a huff as Alfred lead him deep into the depths of the alley.

The Texan didn't say anything. Abruptly, he pressed Arthur against the cold, stone walls of the alley and their lips met. It was unlike their usual soft and passionate kisses. This kiss was harsh, on the point of painful. The message was very clear; it was a claiming, harsh and brutal.

Arthur groaned before he pulled away, his lips swollen and abused. In retaliation, he bit at Alfred's neck, pulling at the collar of his shirt and not caring that the buttons were getting ripped off.

Alfred snarled at the pain, his eyes glinting. Now was not the time for Arthur to feel defiant. He pushed the Briton harshly against the wall again, rubbing their groins together. The friction was good, but so unfulfilling, Alfred let go, just briefly, to tear away at Arthur's clothes, ripping away at the vest and shirt and hastily unbuttoning those pants. Arthur moaned and bucked his hips upward.

When lusciously pale skin was exposed, Alfred ran his hands over the love bites, drawing lower, till he plucked at those deliciously pink nipples, playing with them like a virtuoso would a musical instrument. Arthur let out more whimpers, the pain and pleasure of having his nipples toyed with causing his erection to leak out pre-come. Alfred stopped, with one hand held around Arthur's neck, pinning him to the wall. With his other hand, he pulled away at the underwear that Arthur was wearing, reaching the aching member. The Texan grasped at the cock, massaging and teasing it, fingering the slit of the head and smearing pre-come down the length.

Arthur grasped onto the arm that was holding his neck. Alfred's grip was firm, but not choking. Arthur new what the underlying message was. He was vulnerable, right where Alfred wanted him to be, and if he wanted to, then the Texan could take away his life. It was as simple as that, and yet it wasn't. Arthur made a keening noise. He trusted Alfred absolutely. Just as Arthur was near the brink of his climax Alfred stopped his jerking. "Al... Alfred… Please..." whimpered the Briton.

Alfred smirked. He let go and watched in sick glee as Arthur slumped against the wall, his knees buckling underneath him. Alfred undid the buttons on his pants and pulled out his erection. "Babe, Love, you know what to do."

Arthur rolled his eyes and got to his knees. He held onto Alfred's slim hips, nuzzling at the thick erection lovingly, before he stuck out his tongue and lapped at the head like a kitten would milk.

Alfred groaned in pleasure, his hands gripping at Arthur's hair, tugging at the straw tresses in an attempt to pull the Englishman closer. Arthur seemed to take pity on him as he took more of the thick cock into his mouth. Alfred's grip in his hair was starting to become deliciously painful, and in a sudden movement he snapped his hips forward, causing Arthur to take more of his length. The sweet, hot wetness caused the thin strand of his self control to tremble. The Texan bucked his hips forward a few more times before he withdrew, a strand of slick saliva connecting him to Arthur's bruised lips.

Arthur gasped as Alfred gripped onto his arm, pulling him up and pressing him against the wall so that his chest and face were flush against the cold brick wall. His hips were pulled back and his pants pushed down to his knees. He could feel Alfred's rod tease at his entrance, hot and heavy.

Alfred's breath was against his ear. "Babe," he said in the barest whisper before he nipped harshly on the ear. "Arthur. Please."

Arthur knew what Alfred wanted. He was surprisingly needy, vulnerable despite his outward personality. The fiasco today with Francis tested that, tested the need, the dependency that they had for one another. Arthur braced himself, arms against the wall, the coldness of the surface cooling his flushed skin. "Alfred, darling. I love you."

And as if those were the magic words, Alfred breached him, entering him in one powerful thrust that had him crying out loudly. Arthur gasped, the pleasure was terrific. "I need you, Alfred, I need you."

Alfred seemed to be pleased as his thrusts became harsh and powerful. He bit at Arthur's neck, adding more marks that would certainly bruise by morning. His hold was possessive, needy and desperate as he pounded into the Briton. This was different than the usual sex that they had, this was frantic, as if both were trying to meld into each other, to become one and never separate. To be together forever.

They rutted and sounded for all the world like animals as their touches became rushed. Alfred reached down to jerk at Arthur's erection. Their completion was wearing and Alfred muffled his groan, biting down on Arthur's shoulder to muffle his cry as he came, emptying himself within the Briton. The bite to his shoulder, the thrusts that hit his prostate dead on and the hand wanking on his dick was too much and Arthur came. Spilling his seed and crying out loudly, he fell to the floor in a heap against the wall when Alfred withdrew.

They were both panting for breath, slowly descending from cloud nine. It was Alfred that regained his composer first. He pulled Arthur up, buttoned his pants and covered the Briton's bodice with his own jacket. Doing up all the buttons so that none may see what was his. Alfred carried Arthur bridal style, kissing him tenderly on the forehead. "I love you."

"Mhn. I know you idiot, now go look for a hotel." Arthur smiled in content. "I love you too."

Three days later WANTED posters were scattered all over town.

Arthur stared at them in horror, the black and white character renditions of them sickeningly accurate, smeared over any available surface in town. Arthur pulled his hat lower to cover his eyes. His hands were clenched by his sides and he was quivering in either anger or sadness at being betrayed. Strong, loving hands wrapped around him and Arthur couldn't help the shudder that ran through him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't know... I didn't..."

"Hush, love. It's gonna be alright." Alfred embraced his lover from behind. "We'll manage, we always do. I'm your hero."

"Don't say that! I didn't listen to you! I should've, but I didn't, and now.. and now.. Alfred... Why did I... Why aren't you mad?!"

Alfred kissed Arthur harshly on the head, holding him in a vice grip. "Hush love, hush. It doesnt matter, it was bound to happen at some point anyway. Rather now than later... and as if I would be mad at you. It's impossible to be mad at you, purely because of the fact that being mad at you would mean no sex for me."

Arthur chocked out a sobbing laugh. "But what do we do now?"

The Texan spun the smaller male around, wiping away at the tears that had fallen with this thumb. "First you gotta head back to the hotel. I need to go do something, but I'll come back."

"What if you get caught?!" With trembling fingers, Arthur gripped onto the front of the Texan's shirt "I refuse to part with you."

Alfred laughed, the sound so boyish and carefree it was ridiculous. "As if that could ever happen." He pried Arthur's fingers loose and kissed the knuckles gently. "So go back to the hotel. Please?"

Wet emerald eyes searched azure ones, and there was a moment of silence before Arthur meekly nodded.

"Awesome. Be back soon." said the Texan with a dazzling smile, before he scampered off. Arthur headed back to the hotel.

An hour later, back at the their hotel room, Arthur was just about ready to rip out his hair in anxiety. Where in the bloody hell was Alfred? Had he gotten caught?! Arthur turned on the radio, checking to see if any breaking news had occurred. If the idiot had indeed been caught, then it was up to him to go rescue him. By now panic had set in, and with a scowl Arthur threw on his jacket and reached for his suitcase, heading for the door.

"Honey, I'm home!" bellowed Alfred as he slammed the door open, a grin on his face. As if nothing had gone wrong.

"You ruddy, bleeding, absolute idiot!" growled Arthur, his eyes blazing, "Where have you been?"

And then he noticed.

Arthur took in the sight of Alfred. Gone was his slicked back hair and crisp suit, and instead he was wearing a plain white shirt and a huge, brown bomber jacket lined in black wool. He was wearing beige pants and his hands were gloved in soft ebony leather. A cowlick was prominent on his now messy and ruffled hair, azure eyes veiled by thin, framed glasses. He looked younger, as if he were a boy that was not yet a man but would soon be.

"You look different." was the only thing that the Briton could really say. "You look like a stereotypical yank."

Alfred just laughed and leaned over to kiss Arthur on his cheek. "And you, babe, always look like you have a pole up your ass, which I assume is a very British thing. But I still love you anyways."

"I love you too..." mumbled Arthur as he took the paper package that Alfred shoved him.

The Englishman looked at the package. "What is it?"

"Clothes, silly. Now hurry up, we gotta skedaddle and get outta this town."

Arthur scowled. "And here I was worried for nothing," he muttered before heading towards the bathroom to change. He came out 10 minutes later with a dark expression. "I look old," he stated, pulling at the sleeve of his shirt, underneath a sweater-vest. The vest was a soft, mellow green that matched the white of his long sleeve shirt and brown slacks. The shirt was a size too big and the collar peaked out from under the sweater and the cuffs fell over his hands. "...Really old..."

"Shaddup," drawled Alfred as he hugged the smaller male, kissing the top of his crown, "You look fucking adorable. Like a really sexy scholar, British accent and everything."

Arthur gave a 'tsk', but pressed closer to Alfred, face flush against the taller male's chest. "You still look like an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot."

"Yeah."

The two lovers stayed In each others tight embrace. It was Alfred that let go first. "Come on babe, we gotta go. The car's parked outside."

"Do you think anyone will notice us?"

"Sweetheart, you give people too much credit. People are idiots."

"We're humans too, remember?" Arthur sighed as they headed out the room and down the hallways. "Don't be so cocky, it's bad for you." He talked to Alfred as he did normally, but Arthur couldn't help the thundering of his heart and the nervousness that gnawed at the pit of his belly. It they got caught...

Alfred just looked back and grinned boyishly. They were now out of the hotel and in front of their car. Surprisingly, no one had noticed them, but then again, they looked normal. They looked like every other human that graced this earth. The Texan opened the door for the Englishman, "Told you so," he stuck out his tongue.

Arthur just rolled his eyes as he sat in the front seat, but inside he breathed a sigh of relief. They drove in a comfortable silence out of town, hands entwined together as always. It was a few hours later that Arthur finally asked Alfred what they were going to do. They couldn't continue to live as they did, it was too dangerous. He loved Alfred too much to put him in harm's way, and the Texan felt the same when it came to him.

"Well... babe, I was thinking of taking a really long holiday and wait for all this shit to die down." Alfred brought Arthur's hands to his lips and kissed the knuckles lightly. "How bout a house? With a white picket fence? Heck, we can even get a dog and name it something butch, like Rex, or Max."

"That sounds... really domestic." Arthur smiled, "Will you be getting an utterly mundane 9 to 5 job?"

"Yup! For you babe, I'll do anything and everything. Even if it means working in a really, really boring job. I'll even eat your cooking, that's how much I love you" The Texan threw back his head and laughed when Arthur made a rather adorable and petulant expression.

"My cooking is fine, thank you very much!" huffed the Englishman. He was annoyed, but he didn't let go of Alfred's hand.

"Yeah babe, sure; because everything tastes better when it's covered in charcoal."

"You're from Texas! You barbecue and deep fry _everything_."

"Be thankful. That must be why it's not so bad when I eat your food. Either that, or I must be a hero of some sort."

Arthur sunk into his seat and groaned, "You absolute cad..."

"I love you too Sweetie." Alfred continued to laugh. It was a surprised that they hadn't veered off the road yet. "But seriously, the plan is to head to Canada and lie low for a bit, and then we can figure out what to do. We have enough money and Mattie has a house we can stay in. He lives right near the border."

The Englishman nodded, "Sounds like a good plan."

"Eh... not really," Alfred sighed dramatically, "There's just one problem."

Thick brows knitted together in concern. "And that is?"

The Texan groaned but managed to smile wryly. "It's… Canada."

"You stupid git!" scowled Arthur as he broke free of Alfred's hand to tug on that rebellious cowlick. "I honest to god was worried something was wrong!"

"It is!" yelled Alfred while grinning. Cheeky prat. "It's Canada!"

"Just shut up and drive!"

Alfred just laughed.

It was nightfall by the time they reached the border. There was a small, quaint house made of bricks, with two levels, and the windows framed in white. Daisies and poesies engulfed the front yard and a soft, warm glow shone through the window. It was the only house for miles away, secluded and private.

"Here we are" said Alfred as he parked in front of the house. They both got out of the car and picked up their luggage, heading towards the white door that looked so welcoming. But Arthur couldn't help the apprehension that he felt. It was like meeting the in-laws.

Grinning like a maniac, Alfred knocked on the door, rocking the very foundations of the building. There was the rapid sound of the stairs being trampled on and the door was hesitantly swung forward a sliver. "H-hello?" said a barely audible voice.

"Mattie!" yelled Alfred, looking ecstatic, "How you been lil', brother?"

The door fully opened to reveal a man. He was slight in stature, his hair the same shade as Alfred's, only longer, and the cowlick fell over his eyes in a gentle tress. "Alfred!" said Matthew in a timid voice, "Eh, long time no see."

"Yup!" Alfred dropped the luggage he was holding and embraced his younger twin. It got to the point where Mattie began to gasp for breath and banged against Alfred's back. "A-air!"

"Whoops" said the Texan sheepishly as he let his little brother go. He gestured towards Arthur. "This is my soul mate and other half, Arthur Kirkland. Arthur, this is my lil' bro Matthew. Mattie sounds better on him though. Least I think so."

"Pleased to meet you," murmured Arthur as he shook Matties' hand.

The Canadian seemed to mutter something under his breath in an awkward and nervous fashion before he took the Briton's hand and shook it meekly.

"We should head inside, it's friggin cold out here," complained Alfred as he picked up the luggage and shoved Matthew aside to get into the house where it was a lot warmer.

Arthur and Matthew shortly followed. Both males frowned when Alfred dropped the luggage and sprawled across the sofa, seeming to lack any guest etiquette.

"Eh... would you like some tea or coffee?" asked Mattie as he made his way to the kitchen.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. He could definitely do with some tea right now. "That would be lovely Matthew, shall I assist you?'

The smaller twin seemed to splutter for a moment before smiling, "Eh. No, it's fine. You and Al should really get some rest."

"Yeah Artie," Alfred joined in and smiled lazily. Looking utterly content, he patted the sofa, "Come here babe."

Arthur gave Mattie a sheepish grin before settling down with Alfred. "You lazy cat."

"If you're going to insult me, then at least do it right." Alfred chuckled, sitting up so that Arthur could sit in his lap. He wrapped his arms around the smaller male and nuzzled his neck. "British understatement is annoying."

"Apparently it's charming... although they do say the same thing about the American accent. Personally, it's rather vulgar in my opinion."

Alfred nipped on Arthur's ear in rebuttal. "Babe," he said, sounding absolutely full of himself and dripping with confidence, "Are you tryin' to tell me that my accent doesn't get you hotter than a hotplate or as hard as a hunk of- Oof!" Alfred inhaled sharply when Arthur elbowed him in the ribs.

"Your younger twin is here! Behave!" scolded the English man. He turned a very pretty pink as the mental images of their recent love making ransacked his mind.

The Texan grinned, knowing that he was right and he had totally won their petty little argument.

Arthur coughed awkwardly into his hand before trying to change the topic at hand. "So you and Matthew? He's... Canadian, but you're American? How?"

Alfred shrugged. "I was the black sheep of the family. Mom, dad and Mattie left to Canada to start afresh and I stayed."

There was something in his voice, a stubborn vulnerability that had Arthur frowning in concern. He combed his hands through messy hair. "I'm sort of glad though, to be honest, if you had gone with them then we would have never met."

The Texan scoffed, sinking deeper into his lover's embrace, his voice muffled but still audible. "I would've found you, one way or another."

"I don't doubt that at all."

There was a moment of content silence before footsteps were heard and Mattie entered the door holding a tray of hot tea and biscuits. He almost toppled over when he saw the two males in their embrace. "Eh! S-sorry! Do you need me to leave?!"

Arthur chuckled, breaking free of Alfred and sitting himself down in a more refined manner on another sofa. "It's fine Matthew, sorry that you had to see that."

Alfred, on the other hand, gave a sharp sulking look before sprawling over the sofa and lying on his back. "Damnit Mattie, it wasn't as if we were fucking."

"Not everyone is as publicly affectionate as you love," chided Arthur as he reached for some tea. The milk and maple syrup in his tea made him feel warm and loved. Whoever created tea was a godsend. "Al's always been like that, so loud and confident," said Matthew as he sat down on the adjacent sofa with a cup of coffee. "When we were kids, he was the one that caused the most trouble."

The image of Alfred causing trouble and pestering the neighbour's pets came to mind and Arthur had to chuckle at that. "What did he do?"

"Aw man, Mattie, don't do this to me" whined Alfred.

"Well, one time he locked the neighbour's cat in a trunk. He also tried to fly and ended up breaking his arm... went missing for three days looking for "aliens..." Mattie chuckled nervously, "Just childish things like that."

Alfred got up and squeezed in next to Arthur on the sofa, ignoring the outraged noise Arthur made. The Texan snorted and manhandled Arthur 'til they were front and back. He nuzzled the Briton's neck, breathing in the delicate scent of tea and milk laced with syrup. "Least I wasn't a ghost like you Mattie. I swear, it felt as if you would just fade away at one point."

"Alfred, don't be mean, he's your brother," chided Arthur as he leaned into the embrace.

"It's true though," muttered Alfred darkly, sounding very much like a twisted child. "Once, we were going on a family trip, and we only realized we had left Mattie behind at home hours later."

"Oh my, you poor thing," said Arthur, he's expression one of concern.

"Ah. I'm fine!" insisted Matthew with a tiny smile. He fixed the glasses that were on his face and reached for a biscuit. "No harm done."

"That's good to know at least."

"Yeah. Mattie's always been the angel in the family. Never did anything wrong, never made anyone sad or tortured the neighbour's pets."

Arthur smirked. "The exact opposite of you, I assume?"

The Texan grinned, his smile full of pride. "Heck yeah babe, I was a hellion."

Arthur set down his cup of tea and grasped Alfred's hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing the knuckles. "Indeed, you're _my_ hellion."

Mattie seemed to blush at the intimate scene and he shuffled in his seat uncomfortably. His glance shifted between the two lovers and a distance white spot on the wall. Eventually, it got too uncomfortable and he coughed awkwardly. His heart stopped at the glare that Alfred shot him. It was wrong how animalistic those eyes gleamed, as if a monster was growling and snarling behind those sea blue eyes.

Hiding the slight fear that crept up his spine, Matthew smiled. "W-would you two like some food, or perhaps go to bed? You must have been traveling for a long time after all... I mean... you don't have to either, but I thought it would be... nice?"

"I think we better hit the hay, we'll be outta your way soon enough Mattie, off to Canada..." Alfred shuddered for a moment before returning back to normal. "I had some burgers and scones on the way here, so I ain't hungry."

Arthur quirked a brow. "A 'couple' of burgers you say? More like a mountain. You practically left a trail of wax paper behind you."

Alfred just rolled his eyes before sticking out his tongue childishly at Arthur and returning his attention to Mattie. "So, lil' brother, where are we sleeping tonight?"

Mattie led them up the stairs and to the first door. "You can use this room... it's the guest room really... but eh... I haven't... really had any guest other than my Cuban friend."

"Awesome then," Alfred kissed Arthur on the cheek, "Babe, why don't you head to bed first? I gotta go get some more luggage from the car and I'll be back in a jiff." He practically leapt down the stairs before anyone could say anything.

Mattie was about to make his way to his own room, seeking the comfort of his soft toy polar bear when a hand touched his shoulders. He turned around to see Arthur. "Eh, yes?"

Arthur's eyes were soft and genuine, with tenderness in them, and for a moment Matthew suddenly knew why he was so important to Alfred. "I know that... you and Alfred haven't seen each other in a long time, and that this is very sudden, taking refuge in your home and all, but I just wanted to say thank you, sincerely."

Matthew smiled in return. "Eh. It's no problem, really; I would do anything I could for Al. He's my brother after all, no matter what happens."

And for the barest moment Matthew and Arthur shared a bonding moment... only to have it ruined when the sound of the door slamming was heard.

"Honey, I'm home!" bellowed Alfred as he climbed up the stairs carrying an insane amount of suitcases. The Texan had always been freakishly strong. It was almost unnerving, but it was highly useful as well.

Arthur scoffed then smiled. "Welcome home Love."

Alfred glanced between Arthur and Matthew before giving a pout and wrapping his arms around the Englishman's waist. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Time to hit the hay?"

Arthur's was equally devious in intent. "Of course Dearest." Then, before he could say anything else, Alfred shoved them into the guest bedroom and slammed the door shut. They leaned, pressed against the door, as they waited for Matthew's footsteps to die down.

"Everyone loved him more than me." muttered Alfred as he held Arthur close to him, chest to back. His voice was small, weak and vulnerable, nothing like his usually carefree and arrogant drawl. "Mom and dad... thought there was something wrong with me… when I drowned the neighbor's cat… I was trying to help, honestly. That damn thing wouldn't stop scratching our fence and mom and dad were always complaining about it..."

Arthur spun around to cup Alfred's face in his hands. Those azure eyes that usually gleamed so bright looked dull and listless. The Briton stood on the tips of his toes and touched their foreheads together. "Oh Alfred..."

"When they left for Canada, I didn't want to stay back. They made me though. For my own good. I was dangerous."

The smaller male didn't care that the Texan currently had him in a vice grip that was veering on the edge of painful. Instead, he ran his fingers through those caramelized locks of hair and kissed Alfred, soft and gentle. "It's alright love, good riddance to them. All you'll ever need is me, all I'll never need is you, the rest of the world can just go wank itself for all I care."

Alfred had to laugh at that. He bent his head so that he was resting it on Arthur's shoulders. "Promise?"

"Promise." said Arthur, and he kissed Alfred on the head, sweet and tender, like apple pie.

The next morning was wonderfully slow. The two males made love, took a long bath and made love again. It was nearing noon when they finally left the guest room and headed down to the kitchen, where a wonderful breakfast of pancakes drizzled in butter and maple syrup awaited them. Matthew looked as shy as ever. Come to think of it, Arthur had almost forgotten that someone else was living under this roof.

"What do you want to do today?" asked Arthur as he sipped on his tea. He pushed his leftover pancakes to Alfred, who ate them.

"Gugh loob arounb," said the Texan around a mouthful of bacon and pancakes.

Arthur wrinkled his nose in distaste, while Matthew just smiled.

"For the love of all that is good in life Alfred, can you please swallow your food before you speak? My goodness." Muttered the smaller blond, but there was a helpless smile on his face.

Alfred swallowed his food. It was somewhat daunting to actually see the lump travel down the Texan's throat. When his mouth was void of food, he grinned. "Artie babe, you're so... English when you're miffed. It's fucking adorable."

"Oh shuddup," growled Arthur. He shot Alfred a dark look, but it was torn apart by the rays of light that radiated off Alfred's million watt smile.

"I think we should do something special tonight, go out in town and have a nice dinner to celebrate our fresh start before heading off to Canada."

Arthur rolled his eyes and shuffled his newspaper. He ignored the wanted picture that was sprawled on the front. "You just want to eat hamburgers and apple pie."

"Yup. You caught me." The Texan didn't even have the gall to look guilty.

"Th-theres a nice restaurant not far from from here..." added Matthew shyly. He smiled softly, "They put a lot of bacon in their burgers."

"Thats it, we're going." Decided Alfred, his mouth already watering at the though of a bacon hamburger, despite the fact that he had already eaten a monstrously large breakfast.

"For dinner, we'll go for dinner," added Arthur, "Remember what happened last time you over ate?"

Alfred pouted but didn't argue. Clearly the lesson had been somewhat learnt. "What will we do until dinnertime then?"

Arthur picked up his cup of tea to take a sip. He pulled back, looking slightly bewildered, as the cup seemed to be empty. With a shrug, he reached for the teapot and refilled his cup, adding the necessary amount of sugar and milk. "I'm sure there are things we can do to entertain ourselves... No Alfred, not _that_," added Arthur when he noticed the hungry look in Alfred's eyes.

"Killjoy," shot back the Texan, but his voice was fond and loving.

The Englishman smiled back and there was this... love between them that was so simple and clean that it almost hurt to witness.

"I think I'll bake some scones..." Arthur looked at Matthew, "You wouldn't happen to have any flour and butter, would you?"

Matthew perked up. "O-of course! You need flour and butter to make pancakes."

"Dear God no," groaned Alfred, bashing his head against the table for emphasis before he sat upright and pointed his fork at his lover. "Babe, Sweetheart. We don't want the house to burn down, and I quite like being alive."

"It's not that bad!" snapped Arthur, his brows furrowing and practically hissing. It reminded Alfred of a cat that had been sprayed by a spout of water. So fucking cute.

Those emerald eyes widened, "... Is it really?" he asked, sounding insecure.

"Nah, I'm pulling your strings babe," The Texan leaned across the countertop to kiss the smaller male on the cheek. "It's edible, how 'bout we compromise with that?"

Arthur scowled, muttering the word "Arse" before rummaging though the pantry for ingredients. He set them all out, along with a large bowl and measuring cups.

"I'll be in my room if that's alright?" Matthew smiled hesitantly, "I was hoping to catch up on some reading."

"That's perfectly fine." Arthur smiled back, "Hope you enjoy it."

"I will," mumbled Matt and retreated upstairs with haste.

There was a time of comfortable silence as Arthur, leaning over the counter top with his chin on his arms, watched Arthur attempt to cook.

"Oh bollocks," said Arthur, a blank expression on his face as he stared at the colossal pile of flour. "I thought I was measuring in oz and not grams..."

"...Just double the ingredients of everything else?" suggested Alfred, and before Arthur could say anything, he reached over to grasp a fistful of baking soda and threw it onto the pile of flour.

"Alfred you cad!" screeched Arthur, face flushing red in anger. "That's far too much baking powder! It's going to taste like soap!"

The taller male only grinned sheepishly. "...Add more flour?"

There was silence. Absolute and utter silence.

Arthur bit onto his lip. "Yeah, more flour." So he put in another cup... or two.

Or three?

"How many eggs?" asked Alfred as he reached for some.

The Brits' thick brows knitted together. "The recipe says 1... but we used more ingredients, so maybe 2?"

"Let's double it up!" said Alfred with a grin as he cracked eggs into the bowl, not noticing the tiny specks of shell that fell in due to the fact that his glasses had fogged up with flour. "4 just to be sure. They can be super sized scones!"

"Alfred, Alfred careful." Arthur stuck his finger into the mix to try to get out the tiny eggshells. "You're getting shells into it."

"Well, they're going to taste crispy anyways, with or without the shells..." Alfred stopped talking when Arthur threw an eggshell at him.

"Milk," Arthur took the glass bottle of milk and poured it into the flour.

"And salt." Added Alfred and he threw in a fistful.

They both kneaded the dough, Alfred flattened the dough with his bare fist while Arthur cut it into uneven circles. They popped their creation in the oven. They both sat on the floor, Arthur sitting in Alfred's lap as they watched the scones rise.

Fifteen minutes in, Alfred began to nibble on the smaller male's ear, pesky fingers slipping under Arthur's shirt to caress his stomach.

"You've got to be kidding me." Scowled Arthur, but he didn't do anything to stop Alfred.

The Texan just hummed, his ministrations getting more filthy. Kisses and nips traveling lower down Arthur's neck.

"What if your brother comes down?!" hissed Arthur, but his scolding ended up in a deep throated moan.

The smaller male was then flipped onto his back in a fluid movement. Alfred's hands travelled lower, unbuckling Arthur's belt, cupping at the hardened member veiled by fabric. "Well, we'll just give him a show."

Arthur just moaned in reply, nipping at Alfred's ear in retaliation.

Needless to say, the scones were burnt by the time the lovers were finished. Arthur looked at them with dismay as they came out, like bits of charcoal more suitable for lighting a barbecue than human consumption.

Being the awesome hero that he was, Alfred ate one, keeping a straight face as the scone he was eating made a sick crunching noise. He laughed nervously and spoke through a mouthful of charcoal. "So tell me babe, are the Brits born without taste buds or did the queen declare that they had to be burnt off at a certain age."

Arthur elbowed him before taking a bite of scone as well. "It's not too bad, needs some cream and jam. Like all good scones do. You stay and whip the cream and I'll go out to buy some jam."

Alfred groaned. "Don't we have jam here? Stay home with me."

"Not a spot of jam, I'm afraid. There's a rather alarming amount of maple syrup though." The Brit brushed the flour off his shirt. "I'll only be gone for a bit."

"I'll come with you." Alfred followed Arthur.

"It's alright bub, I won't be long. Stay home and whip the cream." He headed towards the front door.

"We can get the jam together and then whip the cream together."

Arthur popped on his hat and opened the front door. "Very well then. You're lucky that I love yo-

BANG!

Alfred _knew _what that sound was, and in an instant he pulled Arthur back, practically throwing him a meter in. He whipped out his gun and slammed the door shut, opening the curtains a sliver to peer outside.

Police cars. _Everywhere._

But how?!

"Alfred," groaned Arthur. He sounded as if he was in pain. It sounded so wrong.

Alfred looked back. He could feel the blood drain away from him and his heart practically stopped. He was feeling fear for the very first time.

Arthur had been shot. The bullet hadn't missed. There was blood.

Alfred reached over to Arthur. "Artie!" he cried, gingerly putting Arthur upright into a sitting position.

Arthur was holding onto his side, hissing as he pressed at his wound. "Oh, that smarts a tad."

"Now is not the time for your British understatement!" The Texan pressed his hand over Arthur's in an attempt to slow the blood flow. "You're going to all right babe. You'll be fine."

The Brit smiled weakly. "Least we match." His bullet wound was in the same area as Alfred's wound. Only his wound had healed long ago, scarred and no longer life threatening. Arthur's on the other hand…

"_Come out with your hands up!" _The police spoke through a microphone.

"Mattie!" Screamed Alfred. "Get the fuck down here!"

There was the thundering sound of Matthew running down the stairs. "What's happening- Oh!"

"Go get the first aid kit!" Alfred was frantic now. He was terrified. He wasn't used to this. Being swept into a chaos that was not of his own creation, the world shattering beneath his very feet. "How the fuck did they know we where here?!"

Matthew scrambled to do as he was told.

"It's too late," Arthur began to feebly push Alfred away. "Canada is only a sprint away love. You should go, I'll hold them back to buy you time."

Alfred choked out a laugh. "As if I'd go to Canada without you. It's only bearable with you there. It'll be insufferable otherwise. It's Canada."

"It..it wasn't meant to be this way," said a tiny, meek voice.

Alfred turned around to face his brother. "… What?"

Matthew was stumbling over his words. "Th-they said that no one would get hurt. Th-that it w-would be best for you… if I loved you… you're my brother Al..."

Rage blinded him, tore at his throat and sang through his veins. Alfred grasped his gun and shot his brother between the eyes.

Matthew slumped to the floor and his blood ran, forming a puddle along with Arthur's.

There was a sea of red on the floor.

"ALFRED!" bellowed Arthur. "He's your brother! You shared the same ruddy womb!"

"He set us up," Alfred put his forehead against Arthur's. "I'm so sorry Artie. So fucking sorry."

Arthur's hands trembled and tears misted over his beautiful eyes before running down his face. "It's alright love."

"It will be," agreed Alfred. "Let's… Let's go together."

Arthur knew what that meant. His lips quivered, the words thick in his mouth. Everything hurt. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." Alfred pulled the smaller male in a tight embrace, as if by holding on he was somehow protecting him from the death that was slowly creeping towards them at a pace that was far too fast. "No matter what happens, I'll find you. Again and again, without fail, I swear it."

Arthur let out a chuckle, but his tears were flowing, becoming pink due to the blood Alfred was unwittingly smearing on his face. "Won't you get sick of me?"

This was so wrong. It wasn't meant to end like this. They were meant to grow old together, rich and content in a comfy house with cats.

"Maybe of your cooking," joked Arthur, but his words were ruined by the tears that ran down his own face. It wasn't fair. "But I'll never get sick of you. Never."

"We're going to hell."

"Babe, we have VIP in Hell."

Arthur was quiet now. He seemed to be getting weaker and weaker. "I love you…"

Alfred placed a kiss on the Brit's forehead. "I love you too. Hang on all right? I'll be back. I promise."

"Mhn..."

Alfred ran upstairs, coming back a moment later with a machine gun. There was a cold determination in his eyes. The same determination that had made Arthur fall in love with him. "If we're gonna go, we might as well go with a big bang. Shoot us some pigs."

"That's the man I know and love." Arthur tried to stand, but he could barely lift up his arms. "You're going to have to help me up Alfred, love."

Alfred picked the smaller male up, putting an arm around his shoulder so Arthur could stay upright, even if it was mostly only because of Alfred.

Alfred pulled out a cigar, lighting it up with his zippo. He placed a slim cigarette through Arthur's lips, who then lit it up using the flame from Alfred's cigar.

A tiny, beautiful spark. Weak, yet so very bright.

Together they half walked, half dragged each other closer to the door.

"In the next life," said Alfred, "Morning or night?"

Arthur smiled. "Silly American. We'll meet in the evening."

"Smack bang in the middle."

Their lips met together for the very last time. A single, fleeting kiss that conveyed all the joy, love and sorrow that they shared with each other.

Alfred poised his gun… and swung open the door.

In the distance, the sun set.

_Today is cruel, Tomorrow is merciful, Yesterday no longer matters. _

…..

…

…

In the end Greed consumes all with a smile on its' face.


End file.
